


Hold Tight (Ooh Baby, Hold Tight)

by sarahcakes613



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: 5+1 Things, Anal Fingering, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Rimming, Tight Pants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-27 23:07:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30130278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahcakes613/pseuds/sarahcakes613
Summary: Five times Seth asked Roman for help with his pants and one time he begged.
Relationships: Roman Reigns/Seth Rollins | Tyler Black
Comments: 6
Kudos: 26





	Hold Tight (Ooh Baby, Hold Tight)

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place at some nebulous time post-Seth leaving the Authority and pre-Dean leaving the company.

Grunts aren’t out of place in the locker room, but there is a note of desperation to this grunt that has Roman’s curiosity piqued. It’s not the pained grunt of a man putting weight on an injured leg, it isn’t the horny grunt of a post-match adrenaline-fueled handjob.

He cautiously pushes open the door, not sure what he’s going to find. The room is empty except for Seth, who’s seated on a bench with his legs extended in front of him. He’s still sticky-sweaty from his match, his hair frizzing up around his neck, and he’s frowning down at his ring gear like it’s offended him.

“Alright, uce?” Roman asks, and Seth’s head shoots up.

“Oh thank fuck, come here,” he waves at Roman. “I need your help.”

Roman walks towards him. “Help with what?”

Seth gestures to his pants. “I can’t get my gear off. Costuming tried a new fabric blend and it’s like, I don’t know, fucking suctioned on to me or something.”

Roman tries not to laugh and he only mostly succeeds based on the scowl Seth aims at him. The pants don’t have any fastenings, but Seth’s only succeeded in rolling the band down just past his hipbones. Roman kneels in front of him and puts his hands on either side of Seth’s hips.

“Alright, ass up on three,” Roman instructs him. “One, two, three!”

He yanks at the waistband as Seth lifts himself up and then sits back down. There’s not a lot of space at Seth’s feet, but Roman remains kneeling as he pulls the fabric, turning the pants inside out as they peel off of Seth’s legs.

“Here,” he tosses them into Seth’s lap. “You might want to go back to the tac pants while they work out the kinks in the fabric blend.”

Seth snorts and nods. “Yeah, thanks.”

“You got anything going on tonight?” Roman asks. They’re not on the road until tomorrow night, and Roman’s already scoped out a couple of restaurants that look promising if he can convince anyone to join him for a late dinner.

“Nah, man, I’m all yours. You want to grab a bite or what?” Seth shucks off his trunks and wraps a towel around his waist as he moves towards the showers.

“Yeah, there’s a place here that does those king crab legs, it has pretty good reviews on Yelp.”

“Sounds good,” Seth’s voice calls out over the running water. While he waits, Roman packs up Seth’s gear for him, turning the pants right side out and rolling them up. The fabric feels textured, like the stretch of a seat belt, and he laughs quietly at how disgruntled Seth had looked when he found him.

He’s the only one of the three of them who still wears the Shield-style ring gear, and yeah, he knows people think he’s refusing to let go of it or whatever, but it’s honestly the most comfortable and easiest to move around in. Of course, if his style were more acrobatic like Seth’s, he’d probably feel differently. For the flips and splashes, the tight pants have the advantage of being more aerodynamic. And sure, they look badass, but at least Roman’s never had to ask for help getting his pants off when he’s sweaty and swole after a match.

* * *

They’re on the highway in the middle of no one even knows where, when Dean punctuates whatever statement he’s making a little too emphatically and the lid pops off his cup, hot coffee spilling all over Seth’s lap.

Luckily he’s not driving, and it’s been long enough since the drive-thru that the coffee is not scalding, but Roman is relieved to see a half-mile marker for a rest stop right after it happens, and they pull into the parking lot minutes later.

Seth is cursing up a storm at Dean as he yanks a pair of sweatpants out of his suitcase before stalking into the building. Roman follows him, figuring now’s as good a time as any to take a leak. Dean stays with the car, leaning against the trunk and lighting a cigarette.

Roman’s just washing his hands when there’s a muffled thump from one of the bathroom stalls and the door swings open. Seth’s jeans are unzipped, but otherwise still on. He toes off his shoes, grimacing as his socked feet hit the cold tiled floor.

“C’mere,” he calls to Roman, and Roman moves towards him.

“What’s up?” He asks. Seth’s mouth moves, but the words come out in a grumbled whisper. “What?” Roman asks, tilting his ear towards Seth.

“I said, these jeans are too tight to take off while I’m standing,” Seth bites out. “I can’t reach down to get them over my feet.”

Roman gives him an disbelieving look, but Seth ignores him, shimmying his pants down to his knees and then demonstrating the way in which he is unable to reach down to get the cuffs over his feet.

“Come on,” Roman sighs, getting down on one knee. Seth puts a hand on his shoulder for balance, lifting first one foot and then the other as Roman tugs at his skinny jeans, working the fabric down his calves and over his feet.

Roman pushes himself up off the floor, taking Seth’s jeans with him. He rubs a bit of hand soap into the coffee stains and runs them under water before holding them under the hand dryer.

“Oh, uh, thanks,” Seth says, surprised. Roman shrugs. It’s not the weirdest place or reason he’s done impromptu laundry.

“You good?” He asks. “Want to grab anything to eat while we’re here?”

“Nah, we should get back on the road,” Seth says. “But hey, uh, can you not mention this to Ambrose?”

Roman arches an eyebrow. “Okay?” He says, shrugging again. He can’t imagine why it would even come up in conversation, unless Dean suddenly decided they needed to talk about all of the weird places or reasons they’ve done laundry. Which actually, isn’t too far from the kind of conversation he might start halfway through an overnight road trip.

“He’s always making fun of me for the skinny jeans and tight t-shirts,” Seth explains, “the last thing he needs is more material for his mockery.”

Roman laughs. “Yeah, I got you man,” he agrees. “This never happened.”

* * *

There are any number of last-minute changes to the program that happen in the moments before a show. Promo scripts are altered, outcomes are flipped, props are hastily acquired from arena offices.

Sometimes the changes aren’t intentional, like the one that finds Seth pacing back and forth angrily in the gorilla. Roman watches him gesticulate to a member of security before heading back towards the locker room. Roman U-turns to follow him, curious to know what’s wrong, and finds him swearing and mumbling to himself as he fumbles with his belt.

Seth looks up when he hears the door open and he sighs when he sees Roman.

“Oh good,” he says, “my knight in tactical armor. Come help me with this.”

“Wardrobe malfunction?” Roman asks, moving closer.

Seth waves at his crotch. “Busted zip, and I’ve got about 3 minutes to change, but it’s stuck and I can’t get it more than halfway down the teeth.” He tugs at the zipper to demonstrate.

“Might need to make it worse to make it better,” Roman says as he considers the problem. Seth shrugs, and Roman reaches for the fabric sides of the zipper and pulls them apart, forcing the slider to break off of one side. The zipper falls open in a wide vee and Roman blinks as he gets a sudden eyeful of the top of Seth’s crotch, peeking out of a low-waisted pair of briefs.

He only has a moment to register that Seth apparently shaves his pubes before Seth wiggles out of the broken gear and rummages in his suitcase for a backup outfit. Facing away from Roman, Roman’s brain freezes as he realizes Seth wasn’t wearing a pair of briefs but an actual honest to god thong. Well, that’s one way to handle the tight fitting pants, he thinks. He wonders if Seth might actually miss the trunks of their FCW days. Roman sure as hell doesn’t, too much waxing and tanning was required back then.

Seth turns back around as he shimmies into a new pair of pants and double checks the zipper. “Much better,” he says with a wide gap-toothed grin. “Thanks, uce!”

“Anytime,” Roman smiles back. “You better get out there.”

Seth nods as he does a few jumping jacks to stretch out the wrinkles and get himself amped up. “Who you placing odds on?” He asks in a puff of breath.

“Come on now,” he imitates Seth’s signature phrase, shooting him an incredulous look, “you think I’m going to bet against my brother?”

Seth winks at him as he jogs out of the locker room, and Roman settles in on a bench to watch the match. Seth does win, of course, although there are a couple of close counts. Roman’s relieved, he loves Seth but the man’s a terror to drive with when he’s lost a match. It doesn’t matter if it’s title, pre-show, even a dark match, if Seth loses, Roman can expect to spend hours listening to Seth dissecting each move he and his opponent made while he tries to figure out where he went wrong.

For all that his nickname is The Architect, Roman privately thinks of Seth as The Chessmaster for the way he analyzes his opponents and the way he constantly tries to think three moves ahead.

* * *

“Rooooman,” Seth croons, draping himself over the other man, “I’m thirsty.”

“Man, you’re drunk,” Roman laughs as he shifts Seth’s arms so they aren’t wrapped so tightly around his neck. They’d been celebrating a win with Dean, who had uncharacteristically chosen to call it a night early, although Roman suspects that has less to do with being ready for bed and more to do with his girlfriend being on the road with them for this round of shows.

“Nuh-uh,” Seth shakes his head, his hair loose and flying around his face.

“Yeah-huh,” Roman says. “If I let you go, will you be able to stand on your own?” He moves away, holding one of Seth’s arms by the wrist. Seth sways for a second but catches himself, and he puts his arms out to proudly show off his sobriety. It’s an effort ruined when he wobbles and falls face first into Roman’s chest a moment later.

“Come on, drunky,” Roman laughs, pushing Seth up off his chest. “Time for bed.”

“Mmkay,” Seth agrees, obediently trailing behind Roman, his arm outstretched as Roman’s hand is still wrapped around Seth’s wrist. Roman feels a bit like he’s guiding a sleepy child to bed as they traipse out of the bar to the elevator.

In the elevator, Seth leans heavily against Roman, eyes closed, tucking his head into the crook of the taller man’s neck. Roman tilts his head down on top of Seth’s and leaves it there as the elevator rises. When the doors open on their floor, Seth opens his eyes and pouts.

“My feet don’t work,” he says petulantly, “you haveta carry me.”

Roman arches an eyebrow at him. “Haveta, huh?”

“Yup,” Seth pops his lips.

Roman considers his options and finally opts for a bridal carry, sweeping Seth into his arms and cradling him against his chest. Seth’s arms come up around his neck and he leans his head against Roman’s chest with a satisfied sigh.

Roman carefully turns to exit the elevator and moves down the hall slowly. He struggles to get at his keycard but manages to unlock the door and get them both into the room without any elbows or feet hitting the wall.

He dumps Seth on one of the beds and reaches down to unlace his shoes, tugging them off and tossing them in the direction of Seth’s luggage. Seth is flopped on his stomach, his arms stretched out, his face half-buried in the pillows. His mouth is slack and Roman sighs as Seth lets out a small snore.

“You’re starting to make this a habit,” Roman says as he reaches around Seth and unbuckles his belt, sliding it out of the loops. Seth’s still out cold as Roman rolls him over and flicks open the button of his fly. “And Dean’s right,” he huffs, trying to get Seth’s pants down his legs, “your skinny jeans are stupid.” There’s no response from Seth as he yanks the jeans down and finally manages to gets them off. He digs Seth’s phone out of the pocket before tossing the pants over towards the shoes.

He plugs Seth’s phone in, knowing Seth will be in a foul mood if he wakes up to a low battery, and pulls at the blankets, working them out from under Seth to cover him.

He’s tempted to just flop down next to Seth, even after all this time he still sleeps better with another body weighting down the mattress next to him, but instead he strips down, climbs into the other bed, and falls asleep to the soft snuffle of Seth’s breathing.

* * *

“Hey,” Seth taps Roman on the shoulder.

He plucks out an earbud but doesn’t stop jogging on the treadmill. “What’s up?” He asks, panting slightly.

“Management wants us to do an interview tonight, some sort of fancy dinner thing. I didn’t pack a suit, so I need to hit up the mall.” Seth sounds disgruntled at the thought of losing his night off.

“Always pack a suit man, have I taught you nothing?” Roman jokes, and Seth curls his lip.

“Yeah, yeah,” he says. He taps the arm of the treadmill arrhythmically. “Anyways, you wanna tag along?”

Roman nods, hitting the cool down button and slowing his pace. “Yeah, sure. Just give me thirty to clean up.”

He showers and changes into a less sweaty pair of track pants before meeting Seth in the parking lot. Seth drives, letting the GPS direct them to a local midsize mall. He’s not likely to find something tailored, but he’s proportioned well for off-the-rack items, something Roman hasn’t been lucky with since puberty.

The first two stores they look in are busts, although the excited employees don’t think so, and they agreeably pose for a few selfies and sign a few receipt slips before leaving each store. Seth finally finds a few options he likes in a department store, and Roman settles down on a chair with his phone while Seth heads into the dressing rooms to try things on.

Seth periodically pops out to get Roman’s opinion. When he doesn’t reappear a few minutes after showcasing an outfit, Roman assumes he’s made a decision and is changing back into his own clothes. His phone buzzes and he unlocks it to find a text from Seth asking him to hustle back to his changing room.

He sighs, heaving himself up to his feet, and follows the arrows into the maze of cubicles.

“Seth?” He whispers loudly, and a familiar head appears from around a curtain.

“Over here,” he hisses, looking around wildly to make sure no one is listening. “I need your help.”

“Let me guess,” Roman deadpans. “Your pants are stuck.”

“No, actually,” Seth jerks the curtain open and Roman sees a pair of extremely snug trousers molded onto Seth’s legs. “Well, yes, but not the way you’re thinking. I can’t button them up.”

Roman stares at him. “So get a different pair.”

“But I like these ones." Seth pouts.

“So get a different size?”

Seth just continues to pout, so Roman sighs and reaches down. “Fine, come on, suck it in.” Seth holds in his stomach as Roman forces the button and buttonhole to meet.

Seth checks himself out in the mirror. “What do you think? Do these say face of the company?”

“Ass of the company, maybe,” Roman jokes. “Are you planning to wear them out? We’ve still got time before the interview.”

“They’re on now,” Seth says, “if I take them off I’ll just have to go through all that again.”

“You mean I'll have to go through all that again. And you know I’m probably going to have to help you out of these after dinner,” Roman says.

Seth shrugs. “Probably,” he agrees, checking himself out again in the mirror, “but in the meantime I look great.”

* * *

They’ve got nearly back to back shows in Mobile and Tallahassee, which means Roman can sleep in his own bed for a few nights. He invites his brothers to crash with him and Seth accepts, while Dean doesn’t, making grumbling noises about missing out on the good hotel continental breakfast spread.

There’s been work done on the house since Roman last had people over, and he is excited to give Seth the new tour. Seth’s jaw drops when he turns the lights on in his home gym.

“Oh, _man_ ,” he whistles, turning around slowly to take it all in. “This is the kind of set-up I expect to see at the school, and you have it in your own garage. Dude, this is fucking awesome!”

There are the usual machines and weight racks that a good home gym always has, but he also has a TRX frame set up, and one entire half of what would otherwise be a four-car garage is occupied by a full-size wrestling ring.

“Yeah, I’m super stoked about it,” Roman says. “Haven’t had a chance to break it in yet, if you’re up for a bit of sparring.”

Seth beams at him. “You’re fuckin’ on, brother.” He tosses his shirt off and hoists himself up into the ring, bouncing off the ropes as he gets a feel for it.

Roman is slower, tying his hair back and jogging around the ring a couple of times partly to get his heart rate up and partly to irritate the impatient man waiting for him. Just as Seth is about to say something, Roman dives in under the bottom rope, sweeping Seth’s feet out from under him and dropping him on his ass.

“Oh come on!” Seth yells, but there is laughter in his tone. They both hop up and begin to circle each other before Roman goes in for a Superman punch. Seth catches his fist and they grapple back and forth. When they’re not following a script, they’re pretty evenly matched, and they aren’t fighting to any particular goal, just enjoying the ride as they tussle.

Roman strips his own shirt off and throws it aside. There’s no background noise, the only sound is heavy breathing and bodies slamming against the mat, skin slapping against skin. Seth grunts as Roman pushes him down and straddles him, their arms locked as Seth tries to push Roman off.

Seth manages to roll them over so he’s on top, and he grins down triumphantly before Roman kicks out and rolls them again. They rock back and forth and then there is a hitch in Seth’s breathing as he stares up at Roman. Their eyes connect and they stop moving, the air itself seems frozen around them until it cracks with Seth curling up as Roman simultaneously pulls at him, pulling him in. Their lips crash together and Roman buries his hands in Seth’s hair, cradling his head like a cup and drinking in the taste of his mouth.

They kiss like they’ve been doing it for years, lips moving firmly against each other. There are no bumping noses, no clashing teeth, there are just sure lips and tongue and Roman doesn’t know what he’s doing but he knows he never wants to stop.

When the kiss finally breaks, Seth falls back and they stare at each other. Roman can feel Seth hard beneath him and he rocks his hips slowly, rubbing his thigh against the outline of Seth’s dick. Seth whimpers, a high-pitched wordless thing, the muscles in his neck straining as he arches up against Roman.

“Roman,” he whines, “Roman, you gotta –” His voice cracks.

“What?” Roman asks softly, cautiously. This is new territory, he needs to hear what Seth has to say.

Seth’s hands thump at the mat and his head comes up and then falls back, his eyes screwed shut. “My pants,” he gasps. “You need to take my pants off right now because if you don’t I’m going to fucking come in them.”

Roman laughs. “I’m starting to think you wear your pants this tight on purpose, baby,” he says as their hands work together to unzip Seth’s jeans and peel them off. Unlike under his ring gear, today Seth’s wearing simple boxer-briefs and they’re pulled taut across the front where his cock is a hard ridge under the fabric. He curls his fingers into the waistband and looks up at Seth. Seth looks steadily back at him and nods, and Roman pulls them down, throwing them on top of the discarded jeans.

Seth is now spread out naked beneath him and it’s not the first time Roman has seen his friend naked but it is the first time he’s been allowed to drink in his fill, to let his eyes shamelessly rove over the other man head to toe. Tan skin, dustings of curly dark hair on his legs and chest and arms, his cock is cut, precome leaking from the slit.

Roman’s hand drifts down, a single finger running down Seth’s shaft. Seth hisses, his hands clenching into fists on his thighs. He’s responsive, shivering with every movement Roman makes. Roman thinks he could do anything right now and Seth would ask for more. What he really wants is to make Seth come, to see what his face looks like when he is desperate and needy and begging for it.

He slides down and parts Seth’s legs, settling himself between them. When he looks up, Seth is staring at him, his lips parted and his eyes dark. Roman pushes Seth’s legs up, his feet flat on the mat at either side of Roman’s head.

Splayed like this, the curve of Seth’s ass is visible, and Roman’s eye follows the line of it down to the dusky shadow of promise below his balls. Roman swallows heavily and then lowers his head. He pushes Seth’s legs up further, tilting his hips until his ass is almost off the mat, his legs dangling in the air.

He strokes Seth’s asscheeks, the skin is soft and slightly fuzzy this far down. His balls are hairless, and the contrast intrigues Roman. He runs his thumb down into the crease, spreading the cheeks slightly until he sees Seth’s hole. He looks over to Seth’s face, his eyes glassy and focused on Roman, his mouth still open.

He maintains eye contact as long as he can as he lowers his mouth to Seth’s ass. Seth’s body is in a mockery of a pinfall, and his muscles twitch as if he is thinking about kicking out, but he doesn’t. Instead he gasps again as Roman’s tongue slides slowly along the crease of his ass.

Roman moves methodically, licking the crease from Seth’s lower back right up to the seam of his balls before parting his cheeks to again reveal that tiny furled muscle hidden between them. He runs the flat of his tongue right over it and then looks at it, wet and glistening with his spit. He points his tongue, running the tip of it delicately around Seth’s rim and then probing at his hole.

Seth tastes like clean sweat, the salt and musk making Roman’s mouth water. He doesn’t stop licking, moving up into the crease of Seth’s thigh, then down to nip gently at the globes of his ass. He sticks a finger in his mouth to wet it and then strokes it over Seth’s hole before slowly, so slowly, pushing in. Seth’s body sucks him in, hot and soft and greedy.

The noise that escapes Seth’s mouth is probably meant to be a word, maybe Roman’s name, but it collapses after the first syllable into an extended moan. Roman’s tongue doesn’t stop moving, tracing circles around where his finger is slowly fucking in and out. His finger slides out, but Seth’s hole isn’t empty for long. As he laves at Seth’s skin, he wiggles the tip of his tongue in, stroking at the soft heat from the inside.

“Roman,” Seth’s voice is reedy, high-pitched, and he is trying to thrust his hips back, trying to get more friction, more tongue, more _anything_. His knees are up over his chest now, Roman’s large hands cupping his ass.

“Mmm?” Roman rumbles back, slipping his tongue out and sucking kisses into Seth’s inner thighs, paler than the rest of him and smooth against his lips.

Seth seems unable to say anything else, just keeps gasping out Roman’s name as he humps the air. Roman spits onto Seth’s hole, pushes it in with two thick fingers now. He twists his hand, spreading his fingers inside Seth. He feels like his fingers are in a tight velvet vise and his movement stutters as he momentarily wonders at what it would feel like around his cock.

He’s still wearing his pants, loose sweatpants with nothing underneath. It would be easy as anything to shuck them off and find out. Seth has finally found his words, and Roman’s cock throbs at the begging pouring out of Seth’s mouth.

“Roman, please, you gotta – I’m so close, baby, please, fuck me already.” His cock is red and rock-hard, pulsing against his stomach. His hands are grasping, one at the mat over his head and the other gripping his own thigh to help Roman keep him open and in place.

“I don’t have anything out here,” Roman says, his own voice hoarse. “Let me take you to bed, can I take you to bed?” He starts to slide his fingers out, and Seth lets out a keening whine.

“No,” he begs, “don’t stop, I swear to fuck, don’t – don’t stop.” Roman moves his fingers again, and the rough pads of his fingers skim over something inside Seth that make him suck in a hissing gasp and then bear down. He slides his fingers over it again, rubbing it.

He’s curious what Seth’s come tastes like, wants to slip his mouth down over the other man’s cock and swallow, but he’s more curious to find out if Seth can come like this, without a hand or mouth on his dick. He can feel Seth’s body tightening around him, muscles clenching as he continues to stroke the other man’s prostate, and then Seth lets out a shout and his hips buck against the air as he comes.

It spurts across his chest and stomach and his cock jerks and twitches as his balls empty. Roman slowly removes his fingers and runs one through the come before bringing it up to his mouth. It’s warm, salty, bitter. It tastes different than his own but it’s not a bad taste. Seth whimpers and he runs his finger through it again and brings it up to Seth’s lips. Seth sucks his finger in, moaning around it, licking it clean.

“Okay,” he says breathlessly as Roman pulls his hand away, “now you can take me to bed.” Despite the way he’s just come apart, he manages to sound imperious.

Roman laughs, his head against Seth’s thigh. He’s still hard, and the thought of the two of them in his king-sized bed, Seth spread out below him or maybe riding him, makes his cock ache. He scoops Seth up and slings him over his shoulder, one hand firmly wrapped around his thighs.

“You better not be setting me up for a drop,” Seth grumbles, but his own hands are dangling in a way that lets him reach down and grope Roman’s ass and he does so with a happy hum.

“Just felt faster than waiting for you to catch your breath, baby,” Roman says as he makes his way out of the ring with Seth over his shoulder. Clean-up can wait, he’s got more important things to do right now.


End file.
